Part 5 (1/2)

Lovi in truth had not heard much of the story. At first, he had listened because he was entranced by the boy Piers's sweet voice, which moved him in a way he could not explain, but that generated uncomfortable feelings. From the first time he had met Piers, he had felt that attraction, and it hadgenerated an anguish of self-doubt, because he should not have felt such things about another boy.

Because he did feel them, he had treated Piers with disdain, short of outright insult but calculated to maintain a safe barrier between himself and the necessity of admitting his unnatural attraction.

But now he sat warm beneath Father Gregorius's cloak, and the priest's strong, heavy arm lay over his shoulders, and he felt an entirely different, but equally discomfiting emotion. That arm now pulled him close against the warmth of Gregorius's ribs and thigh, and did so with a force not of physical strength, but of unquestionable authority, as if Lovi were not himself a thinking being, a person, but an object that Gregorius owned, as he owned the cloak itself. Lovi, rather than resisting as was his first impulse, allowed himself to be held. At that moment, that crux, that surrender of autonomy, he felt a great sense of well-being, as if a decision had been made that greatly simplified his complex feelings about himself, and filled him at the same time with anxious excitement. . . .

As Piers's sweet voice murmured on, Lovi lost track of the story, because Father Gregorius's other hand was moving beneath their shared cloak, in a manner that implied not an intrusion, but an exploration of that domain Lovi had ceded to him. Lovi himself felt as if he were made of soft wax, that Gregorius might move and shape as he willed.

As if they were still on the galley, moving to the surge of waves beneath its hull, Lovi rocked to the insistent rhythm of his own need, the beat of his own drumming heart, the commands of his s.h.i.+p's master.

On plowed that immaterial galley through the black, s.h.i.+ning, rolling seas behind Lovi's tight-closed eyes, until the darkness gave way to a great s.h.i.+ning, as if the moon had risen from horizon to zenith in one great bound, and now covered him in its silvery light. In that eternal moment of rolling waves he sank, broached by the seas and overwhelmed, into the darkness of the deep-into exhausted sleep. When Pierrette had finished her tale, when the others arose to make their beds, Lovi slept on.

Another day pa.s.sed, and another. They progressed upstream past the mouths of several influent streams, which had heretofore contributed to Rhoda.n.u.s's breadth and flow. Their own path of water became correspondingly narrower, its current swifter, and their pace slower, even though the rowers' efforts were undiminished.

On several occasions, Pierrette observed brief interchanges between father Gregorius and Lovi, when Lovi's eyes seemed to follow the priest's movement. Each time, Gregorius seemed to sense that gaze, and he turned, smiling, then wagged a finger from side to side as if enjoining the boy to patience-to what end she did not know. She also observed that Father Gregorius's own eyes no longer strayed to the sh.o.r.e whenever they pa.s.sed a village or town, and one day she mentioned both things to ibn Saul, who chuckled indulgently, and explained.

”They have become lovers,” the scholar said, ”though I would never have thought it, because the Franks abhor such affairs between men. It does not displease me-though I admit to some small jealousy, having admired Lovi myself-because now our guide through the Nors.e.m.e.n's territory is bound to us in a way no iron chain around his neck could do.” Pierrette knew of such things, but had never observed such a relations.h.i.+p, and for many days she was unable to explain why ibn Saul's revelation distressed her. Not until the day before they were to leave River Rhoda.n.u.s and journey overland to the westward-flowing Liger did she understand.

It was a lovely day, weeks since she had told her second tale. She had not yet told the third one as promised because, with the increased current, the oarsmen were too tired to stay awake once they had eaten. For the first time in all those weeks, Lovi cast off his tunic andbracae, and clad only in a cloth about his loins, sunned himself on the warm deck. She observed Gregorius's expression of smug possessiveness, and how Lovi stretched and preened for him-and also saw that Gregorius was not the only one watching. For a long moment, the helmsman's eyes drifted from his course, and several oarsmen missed their strokes. The vessel was only bought back on course with much effort and cursing by overseer and galleymaster.

The master approached ibn Saul shortly later, and extracted a promise that the scholar would no longer allow his apprentice to flaunt himself so, in circ.u.mstances where even men who preferred women had been deprived long enough to find him attractive, pale and golden as he was. Then Pierrette realized that her distress was simple to explain: it was jealousy. It was not fair that the lovely Lovi, whom she had coveted almost since they were both children, should be possessed and enjoyed by the sneaky, unscrupulous Gregorius, and not by her.

It was resentment, too, that her chosen course had forced her to deny her desire for him because she had been afraid she could not have resisted, had he urged her with all the intensity of his youth and vigor, to surrender herself completely.

It was anger, because she had allowed Lovi to see the pain in her eyes when she looked at him, and he had smiled as prettily as any tart in the amphitheater in Ma.s.salia, and shook his head as if to say, ”You had your chance, and you didn't take it. Too bad. Too late.”

It was sadness and loss, because she sensed that, by becoming Gregorius's lover, Lovi had crossed some great divide, placing himself beyond her reach forever, and though she had not wanted to surrender to her own desire, she did not want to accept that such fulfillment was no longer considerable at all.

Chapter 9 - The Last Tale.

Just below Lugdunum they disembarked at a wharf half stone, half rotted timbers, on the western bank.

Had they entered the city itself, on the east bank, said the galleymaster, there would have been tolls to be paid on vessel, crew, and pa.s.sengers. By taking the west sh.o.r.e road north to the portage, only the scholar's party and its goods would be so taxed.

Because many other boatmen routinely evaded the city tolls in like manner, there were ox-drawn wagons for hire at the wharf. Ibn Saul paid off the galleymaster and immediately began haggling with the wagoneers. Because a nasty, northerly wind had sprung up, a precursor of the mad Mistral that drove men insane in winter, few more laden boats would put in until springtime. That, and their relatively scant luggage, resulted in an almost immediate bargain. Within hours, everything was loaded, and they were under way.

What, Pierrette wondered, had become of Yan Oors? He had not visited her for several nights. Was he following them, afoot? Many local people trudged the portage road, some with great sacks or bundles, others with staffs not unlike Yan's in appearance. Was he one of them, in sight, but unseen? She hoped so.

The road followed the river for several miles, during which Lugdunum was visible on the far side. Red tile roofs jutted above its cream-and-yellow walls, and Pierrette caught tantalizing glimpses of columned temples or public buildings of the Roman age-Lugdunum, where emperors had resided at times, whereMagdalen had preached. But her path lay elsewhere. Regretfully, Pierrette tugged Gustave along, and turned her head away from the city.

Already, a certain awkwardness had arisen in their small company. Before, there had been others with them, oarsmen, s.h.i.+pmaster, and overseer, to fill out sociable moments, but now there were only four-the scholar, Lovi, Pierrette, and the hedge-priest Gregorius. Ibn Saul rode with the caravan owner on the first wagon, Lovi and the priest followed in the second, and Pierrette, by her own choice, strode well ahead of them and their dust, with Gustave. The road, though rough in spots, was deeply rutted and easy to follow. Later, when bones and b.u.t.tocks had endured all they could of the jolting ox-drawn wagons, ibn Saul joined her.

That night, and the two that followed, all four of them fell onto their makes.h.i.+ft bedding as soon as they had eaten. On the fourth night-their last before they reached the Liger, and hopefully found a boat for hire-they were becoming enured to land travel, and after they had supped, ibn Saul reminded Pierrette that there was yet one tale untold.

Tarascon seemed far away, and events pertaining to it hardly relevant now. Even the countryside was different, foreign, and strange. Fields were green, not yellow or brown. The colors of stone were more intense, as if less bleached by the sun. Trees and brush were less dark, as if the land enjoyed a perennial springtime. Even the lilt of nearby voices was different, quicker, as if everyone were impatient all the time.

When someone agree with you, they said ”Oy” instead of ”Oc.”

For want of other ways to pa.s.s the time between supper and sleep that night, she agreed to tell the tale.

”This third story about the monster of Tarascon,” she began, ”commences much as did the second. The saints arrived at Saintes-Marie-by-the-Sea, and there parted from one another. Martha and Magdalen followed River Rhoda.n.u.s northward, and in time arrived at Tarascon, which was not a happy place.

”Remember that much of Gaul had at that time been subject to Roma for only a century or so, and had never been completely pacified. From time to time the threat of rebellion arose, which the Romans dealt with in four ways. First, they maintained a garrison at Arelate, a full legion, and stationed cohorts in other towns. Second, they reorganized key towns like Tarascon, on the river, ascoloniae , with streets laid out like Egyptian chessboards, with arenas and amphitheaters, hippodromes,fora , and temples for the Roman G.o.ds. Thirdly, because there were not enough men in Roma to man all the garrisons in all the lands the empire governed, Roma recruited Numidians in Africa, and sent them to the eastern cities. They recruited Gauls in these parts, and s.h.i.+pped them to Africa, Egypt, or Greece. That way, legionaries were never sympathetic to local causes, and did not ally themselves with conquered peoples against the interests of Roma.

”Thus the legion at Arelate was comprised of Egyptians-officers who spoke Greek, and common men who spoke a dialect related to that of the Jews of Palestine. Now Greek, Latin, and Gaulish are similar tongues, and it is not difficult for a speaker of one to learn the others. But the Egyptian commoners could not easily learn any of them. When an Egyptian legionary shopped in the forum at Arelate, he could only point and shout for what he wanted. Thus there was little communication between legionaries and the people they controlled, and there were many misunderstandings. No love was lost between them.

”Remember, Rome maintained her dominion in four ways. This is the fourth: legionaries, from the time of Marius on, served twenty years, and when their time was done, they were promised ten or twenty acres of farmland, and a mule of their own. Many such retired soldiers were given land nearcoloniaelike Tarascon, but such land did not appear like magic, nor was it hewn from virgin forest. When Rome conquered, she divided the estates of n.o.ble Gauls, taking a portion for herself. Such state lands were often left in Gaulish hands for a generation or more, and when the time came for them to give it up, theydid not do so with good grace. They resented the Egyptian legionaries, and because they had no common language, they could not discover that, as farmers, they had more in common with each other than either did with Roman officials and tax collectors.

”Thus when Gaul and Egyptian met at a crossroads or a well-both sacred places to Gauls-there were often fights, because the Egyptians did not know how to behave there. And when Egyptians averted their eyes in pa.s.sing, it was a mark of respect, but Gauls considered them sneaky, because they would not look a man in the eye. Because the legionaries had no wives, they looked covetously at Gaulish women, not knowing which ones were married, and which not. Gaulish fathers and husbands took offense, and sometimes sneaked up on Egyptian farms by night, and killed the farmers.

”That was the situation Saint Martha found when she arrived. 'You go on to Lugdunum,' she told Magdalen. 'I see that my mission is to be here.'

”Now Martha spoke with the Gauls of Tarascon in Latin, because most educated people knew a bit of the Roman language. She told them of her G.o.d, and his Son, and said that those who believed and wors.h.i.+pped them were like brothers and sisters who sometimes quarreled, but in the end were reconciled, and shared the house and land of the Father in peace.

” 'Go tell that to the legionaries,' said the Gauls. 'It is they who covet our women and defile our sacred places.'

” 'To the one G.o.d and his Son, the whole world is a sacred place,' said Martha, 'but I will speak with them also, and tell them the Word.'

”So she trudged the roads from one farm to the next, Gaulish and Egyptian alike, and gave the farmers the same message: that in the House of the one true G.o.d, they were all one family. To the Gauls she said, 'Come to the basilica in Arelate, where the bankers, scribes, and moneylenders preside, and I will tell you more.' To the Egyptians she said the same, for the basilica was neutral ground for both peoples.”

”Wait!” objected Gregorius loudly, breaking everyone's rapture. ”If Gauls and the Egyptians had no common speech, how did the Saint address both of them?”

”Did I not say that the Jews of Palestine spoke a language much like Egyptian, and was not Martha a Jew? And was not Sarah, left behind by the sea, also Egyptian? Had not Martha spoken with her often enough, during those long weeks at sea, to learn where Jewish Aramaic and Egyptian were different, and where they were the same? Saint Martha stayed in Tarascon because she knew she was the bridge between the Gauls and the colonists, or rather, the Christian faith was.”

Gregorius snorted. ”You led us into your trap, didn't you?” Ibn Saul, annoyed that the mood of the tale was now broken, scowled at the priest. Lovi put a restraining hand on his lover's knee.

”We are all tired,” said Pierrette. ”If you wish, we can continue this another night. Now I'm going to lay my bed.” She stood, then made her way from the fire to the place she had tethered Gustave, beneath a pine tree where the ground was cus.h.i.+oned with fallen needles.

At the far end of the portage was a village, a cl.u.s.ter of stone-and-timber houses without walls or a gate.

The Liger was narrow there, and ibn Saul was concerned that it might not be navigable. ”Those long, narrow boats seem just right for such a stream,” said Pierrette who, a fisherman's daughter, knew more of boats then the others did. ”I suspect they drift with the current, which is quite fast, and use those longpoles to fend from the banks.”

So it was. A single boat could not bear the four of them, their baggage, and Gustave the donkey, so ibn Saul was forced to hire two. The scholar and his treasured instruments, Pierrette, and the donkey went in the first boat, and the others in the second, with the rest of their goods. One poleman on the trailing boat was very tall. He seemed to wield his long, heavy pole with great ease, as if it weighed nothing at all. Was that Yan Oors? If it were, how had he managed to get his position there? The boatmen were clannish, and Pierrette thought they were all from the same village. How could a stranger fit in among them?

The valley through which they threaded that first day, and several that followed, was heavily forested.

Willows, elders, and cedars crowded the banks and leaned out over the water. If there were villages or tilled fields beyond, they could not be seen from the water or the occasional beaches that formed on the insides of bends in the stream.